QUICK FREEZE

I'm a major wimp about cold. Any place under 82 degrees Fahrenheit (27 Celsius) is cold to me. I grew up in Southern California, so I have naturally thin blood, and it just never thickened up. Even after living in Michigan, Utah, Kansas and Germany. And my frequent flights to visit my grand kids in Hawaii just reinforce the thinniestness (just invented a new word, didn't I?).

My husband has always insisted that you can dress warmer, but you can't dress colder. I seem to be the exception the proves the rule. I can have on a long-sleeved tee, two sweatshirts, a jacket, a hat and scarf, three pairs of socks and the heaviest jeans I owe.

And be freezing.

Inside. With a heater running. Right next to me.

So last night it got down in the low 20's. Both of the horses' water troughs froze solid. I got out of bed only by literally HURLING myself from under the covers and jumping and dancing around as I got dressed (be grateful that no one caught it on camera).

I am telling you all this (and, unfortunately, have probably gotten an image of me capering around with one leg in my jeans stuck in your head for the rest of the entry - sorry) to set the stage of sitting in a cold cafe, no heat, no coffee (I don't drink it) but a cold soda (I get my caffeine from Diet Coke).

And our regular waitress comes over, shivering, in a light short-sleeved tee. She was house-sitting for someone who had an obscene amount of dogs, and couldn't wear her jacket because it was now covered in dog hair.

This was a colossal test for me. It meant giving up ONE of three sweatshirts.

But I passed.